Black Decisions
by Salome Weil
Summary: Narcissa considers the man she married and what their life together is like. She loves him, but she realizes she can't save him. Oneshot. Partial AU, non-canon.


**Disclaimer: I own no part of the Harry Potter franchise; all characters and ideas belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**A/N: I wrote this for a challenge someone issued on Granger Enchanted, titled "She Can't Save Him." Yes, that technically makes it a song fic, so I'm somewhat ashamed of myself; but if we don't allow ourselves to be inspired by good music once in a while, what kinds of artists are we, really? At any rate, there's hardly any of the song in it at all and my writing voice is still strong, so I feel pretty good about it. Additionally, I twisted the facts concerning the prophecy a bit- implied only- so I think that technically makes it AU. Not that it's important to the story here, at least. Take a gander if you like. **

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Narcissa heard the kitchen door downstairs slam open. It made the thunder from the storm outside that much louder as the sound invaded the old house. Boots clomping about as the raiding party that had left hours earlier made themselves at home; the cackle of maniacal witches she wished she wasn't related to; the smell of blood permeating the beautiful Italian marble of the hall that she'd just had cleaned yesterday…she could see it all in her mind. It made her blood boil with an anger she'd only felt a few times as a child.

It seemed as though she was going to be reintroduced to the sensation quickly in the coming days.

A call drifted up the stairs. "Narcissa?" There was the a tread upon the creaking stair before she heard a muffled curse and another call, this time for the house elf.

_Fine_, she thought. _Let him abuse Dobby; take out his anger on the little thing. Better than him bursting in here, covered in rainwater and mud and Merlin knows what else. Disturbing my sweet little boy…_

She turned her face back to the small bundle of joy in her arms. His warm, sleeping body, face smiling dreamily at nothing in particular, only served to remind her of the awful task her husband had been given. It was Herod like in its horror and she'd begged Lucius to find a way out of it.

"I don't want the man I'm married to stepping in ten feet of such a horrid job!" she'd shrieked at him almost a year ago. "You're helping to kill the innocent creature!"

He'd tried to ignore her at first and when that hadn't worked, he'd begun to yell back. "What would you have me do? Refuse and lose my life? Would you rather have a dead saint than a living, breathing man for a husband?"

"Yes!" she'd returned, glaring at him, hands splayed across her own large belly. She'd known Lily Evans. She hadn't liked her, but that didn't mean she wanted the child of the poor woman dead. She knew how it would feel, to watch helplessly as one was killed, to know that it would be one's son next…unable to protect the babe from sudden and violent death.

She didn't want her husband to feel guilt for such a crime…and surely, he would. He may be cruel and cold and impossible to live with, but he had a heart that beat just the same. She knew he would die for their son, if the situation ever arose. She knew _she _would die for her child.

It just wasn't _right_! She'd gone to Lucius, then, begging. "Do whatever you have to, my love, please. He was a man once- he _is _only a man. _Lie _to him."

He'd put her from him easily and turned away. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Cissa. It's not that easy. You knew all this about me when you agreed to be married to me- you jeered at all those mudbloods with the best of us! Why are you doing this, forcing me to chose? Do you want me dead?"

She hadn't been able to answer and had only hugged him, holding herself as close as her pregnant belly would allow.

"You know I don't want that, really, darling. I'm sorry I said it before. But what if it was our son? I just…I just know how a mother feels about these things and I can't bear that you would help put another woman through such _pain_." She'd felt him shudder beneath her small embrace and had felt tears come to her eyes. "Oh, Lucius, what has he _done_ to you? That you would go through with such an awful-"

He'd shushed her before she could finish. "Don't say anymore, Cissa. We can't afford it. He watches us all, every minute of the day. I- Cissa, you know I love you, right?"

With those words, he'd effectively ended the conversation. She didn't hear him say such things often enough and when he did, neither one let the moment go easily.

The truth was, Narcissa had never dreamed of marrying anyone else. She'd seen in Lucius a kindred spirit- but one also of a man who wanted _and needed _a great deal of love. She'd wanted what her girlfriends had referred to as _true love_ and a man that needed healing. A man that she could tame. And Lucius had delivered.

He was kind to her when he was to no one else. He catered to her needs and desires; he courted her with a passion and pursuit that none of her previous boy friends had ever shown. It was a match made in pureblood heaven. Of course there were the occasional mishaps, where he would attempt to crush a bug under his heel and she would cry and demand he released it out a window; or when he insisted on attending the pureblood empowerment meetings instead of going on a date or studying together. But aside from the expected spats, she knew they loved one another and he had fairly insisted on getting married after graduation.

Unfortunately, his true colors were shown soon after the honeymoon was over. Oh, she knew he still loved and cared for her, still wanted to have a family with her; but he was more and more distracted and his job began demanding more and more of his time.

It was a wonder, she reflected, that they'd even gotten pregnant with Draco. His father was off on raids and at meetings so often during the first few years of their marriage that she'd wondered, at first, if he wasn't having an affair. Oh, she'd known perfectly well where he was- she'd met the dark lord, herself- but what if he'd fallen for some other witch who was more than happy to go on the blood bath raids with him?

They simply weren't Narcissa's cup of tea, thanks very much.

He'd put an end to her fears with ease and a few special weekends and nights away from the Eaters, but after he'd felt she was sufficiently reassured, he'd picked up his old activities right away. It was as though nothing had changed at all.

She'd felt betrayed by it all. It wasn't as though she didn't understand the need for blood purity or the desire to crush the skull of someone who had bested you despite his or her inferior heritage; but she simply had other priorities in life, now. She wanted to raise her son in a safe, loving environment. She wanted to have a pretty house where all manner of scum of the earth did not trample through it on a regular basis. She wanted a life that didn't also include a devious, ill tempered, and maniacal wizard sharing every moment with them.

The same heavy boots she'd imagined hearing in the kitchen earlier now invaded the room in which she was seated. Lightening flashed outside the window, the curtains drawn to look out into the bleary night. The streak of light lit up the room again and she knew he was there in the doorway, watching her.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "How is he?"

She didn't get up from her position in the nursery. "Still a little colicky, but better. Then again, you'd know that already if you'd been here for dinner tonight."

"Cissa, you know where I was."

She bowed her head and kissed her babe's forehead. "I know," she murmured. "Have you found them yet?"

"No," he replied. "But we think we may know who to try next. Do you remember a ratty little fellow named Pettigrew?"

She shook her head and turned to face him, finally. He had cleaned up downstairs a bit, that much was clear. But his face looked tired and pale- although as handsome as ever- and he was trembling with weariness. Her face softened and she felt a tug at her heart. She would love this man until she died.

But that didn't mean she could save him from the pain he was putting himself through.

"Here, Lucius," she murmured. "Come sit with him for a while. He's always well when you hold him. I'll go see about warming up some dinner for you."

"You don't have to- have Dobby see to it-" he protested, even as he took his tiny son in his arms and let her steer him into the rocker.

"There, now," she managed a small smile. "I'll be back in a few minutes. You rest, my love." And she kissed him on his cheek before leaving the room swiftly.

When she returned fifteen minutes later, a bowl of soup and bread piled upon a small dinner tray, she found him fast asleep. Draco was still cradled tenderly in his arms as Lucius' head drooped over his son's sleeping form. Narcissa set the tray on a small table near the door and then moved forward to kneel beside her husband. Her hand crept up and stroked his pale, gleaming hair as the storm continued to rage on outside.

"Oh, Lucius," she whispered. "What _has _he done to you?" It echoed her question of a year ago, but this time, she felt completely helpless. The devil was taking away her husband's health and humanity and there was nothing she could do about it. There was nothing she could change.

With a gentle motion, she lifted Draco from his father's arms and placed him in the nearby bassinet. Then, tugging upon her husband's arm, she woke him into a half stupor and led him out of the nursery and into their master suite next door.

She led the tall, strong man she had married to their bed and helped him into it. With a murmured spell, she took off his boots and replaced his robes with pajamas. Then, smoothing his hair out one more time, she kissed him tenderly on the lips. He smiled up at her drowsily, eyes still full of sleep and head full of half finished dreams. His hands reached out from beneath the quilt she had pulled over him to grasp her to him. She laughed to herself quietly and hoped it didn't sound too much like the crying she really felt like doing.

His breath came warm and whispered upon her ear.

"Cissa, you know I love you, right?"

His words made her heart beat within her injured chest a little faster and she relaxed into him a moment more.

But this time, instead of losing herself to his rare confession, she extracted herself from his arms and placed them back upon the covers. She ran her hand across his cheek once more.

"I know, darling. I know," she murmured in reply. Then she stood from the bed and turned, leaving the room in darkness and quiet with a simple spell as she went to take care of the only man in her life now that she _could _save.

Just let the dark lord try to take another one from her.

Just let him.

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End file.
